


5 Chances Missed and 1 Chance Taken

by aprettystrangeao3, Cumbermarvel (UglyJackal)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, Mild Smut, Tumblr Prompt, rated teen & up for mild nfsw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 01:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16029839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprettystrangeao3/pseuds/aprettystrangeao3, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UglyJackal/pseuds/Cumbermarvel
Summary: Two Gay Idiots





	5 Chances Missed and 1 Chance Taken

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song "Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys

**1.**

‘Are there some aces up your sleeves?’ Scott said, holding up twin finger-guns and pointing them at Stephen’s chest. ‘Cause I’d really like to, uh, hold ‘em?”

The wizard blinked, confusion littered across his face like splattered paint.

‘Huh?’ he stuttered out, lips twitching upwards in a battle between laughter and secondhand embarrassment.

Stephen felt the fingertips of panic brush against him as he noticed Scott reaching towards his hands— but then the former thief pulled something from the sleeve of his suit instead, making sure the sorcerer’s scars weren’t touched. And with a proud grin, Scott held up what he had found up his sleeve: an ace of hearts.

Stephen let out an appreciative chuckle, opening his mouth to respond, but an almighty crash from outside interrupted his retort. His attention on Scott vanished as orange sparks flew from his fingertips, forming a golden blade that sliced upwards towards the stomach of a giant octopus beginning to lumber into the building.

And Scott didn’t get to hold anyone’s hand but his daughter’s that evening.

**2.**

“So, you dream about inter-dimensional baddies?” Scott asked, disbelief shaping his eyebrows into a slight downward squint.

“Sometimes. Most of the time,” Stephen murmured, looking up from the tome he was perusing.

“You don’t have like. Uh. Normal, human people dreams??”

Stephen laughed. “I don’t know. Dreams about, say, forgetting to wear pants seem like a thing of the past in my position.”

Scott grinned toothily, leaning against the table Stephen was seated at. “You’re serious? You don’t dream of, like, being late to high school class still?”

“Uh… can’t say I do,” Stephen chuckled, closing his book with a soft snap of old parchment. His gaze flicked up to Scott, those luminous silver eyes swimming with morbid curiosity and barely contained amusement. “Why? What do you dream about?”

“I mean, last night I dreamt that Cassie’s bag of marshmallows wanted to eat me. Like totally, all-out Ghostbusters. It was freaky, like? Dude. Have you seen that movie? Please tell me you have.”

Stephen waved his hand to indicate he had, determinedly chewing on his lip to keep from laughing.

“... Well I mean besides that, on Tuesday I had this weird nightmare that Luis only spoke French to me, and we were trying to rob this bank, but we couldn’t understand each other and kept fumbling up the plan, and it was such a disaster? Oh and I dream about people a lot, you know? Like I had a dream Tony put blasters on my suit and it was just. Like. An hour of watching him laugh at me, man. And uh, oh! I’ve dreamed about you near me almost every night this week.”

“You… dream about me?” Stephen interjected softly, arching a brow.

Scott froze, inhaling sharply upon realizing what had just stumbled out of his mouth, doing his best to look casual as he backpedaled furiously.

“I mean! Not like that! Like. Uh. In my… dream last night you were... speaking gibberish in an Avengers meeting and uh, making the chairs fly around and stuff. Just weird dreams like that, you know. Right? Weird.”

Something fell ever so slightly in Stephen’s expression, but he laughed gracefully and leaned back in his chair. “You sure do have a fascinating mind at rest, Scott.”

Fuck. Missed another chance.

Scott did not, however, tell the sorcerer that his dreams of him entailed long fingers entwined in his like a gentle embrace, Cupid-bow lips hovering over his, the scratch of a precisely-shaved beard against his own smooth cheek, eyes pulled from the ocean sparkling back at him, love and affection in the murky depths.

**3.**

They hadn’t meant to meet in the Starbucks. They hadn’t planned on seeing each other that day at all. But fate was fickle and drew them together.

Stephen had been out getting a coffee and Scott was getting a hot chocolate for Cassie to surprise her with after she came home from school. They had been queuing right next to each other; Stephen in front of Scott, hands fiddling on his phone, and Scott had looked up and his eyes had widened. He recognised the long, lanky figure, with muscle hidden away in secret underneath the brown cardigan on his shoulders. He recognised the raven coloured hair with the lines of silver asteroids on his temples. He recognised the elegant slope of his forehead and his nose.

And he felt his heart skip about three beats as he fell deeper and deeper for the man standing in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, Scott cleared his throat and tapped Stephen on the shoulder.

‘Hey! Didn’t expect to see you here,’ he said, not even having to hide the nerves in his voice, his grin full of teeth that came naturally when he was around the taller man overpowered them. Stephen turned around with a furrowed brow, which quickly loosened when he saw who he was talking to.

‘Oh, hello, Scott,’ he said, lips stretching into a smile that made the hero melt.

‘I didn’t think this would be somewhere that I’d see you,’ the amateur magician continued, ‘I thought you’d be making your own coffee, what with all that magic of yours.’

‘I usually prefer to stay at the Sanctum for meals and drinks,’ the mage said, ‘but sometimes I like to let someone else do the work for me.’

Scott chuckled. ‘Oh!’ he cried, struck with an idea. ‘What’s your order? I could get these, if that was okay, of course! Don’t wanna step on any toes,’ he trailed off with an awkward chuckle.

Stephen’s brows raised in surprise for a moment before he smiled warmly. ‘That would be lovely, thank you,’ he said.

And that was how Stephen Strange and Scott Lang came to be sitting at a table, with one black and one frothy coffee between them, and a hot chocolate off to the side. Their talk was easy; playful comments bouncing between them, as they told each other about their day. Scott was starting to open up to Stephen about the divorce when the sorcerer suddenly straightened in his chair and tilted his head as though he was listening to a sound above him.

‘I was scared that-’ Scott paused as he noticed what the sorcerer was doing, ‘uh… you okay there, Stephen?’

‘I’m so sorry, this couldn’t happen at a worse time, just when you were telling me about the divorce, God, I’m so sorry, Scott,’ the wizard rambled, as he started to get out of his chair, ‘but I really must go.’

The other hero’s face fell. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I’m sad to see you go, I was sort of hoping you’d stay a little longer. Why do you have to go so soon?’

As Stephen opened his mouth to respond, a sparkling orange portal opened behind him, and a gnarled hand the colour of rotting apples reached out and grabbed the sorcerer by the scruff of his cardigan and started to pull him into the portal. Stephen laughed awkwardly. ‘This is why,’ he said, ‘I do apologise.’

And with that, the portal snapped shut and Scott was left alone with a half-empty coffee cup in front of him, a quarter-full cup in his hand, and the full cup of hot chocolate next to him.

Another chance lost.

**4.**

The afterparty was loud and it was obnoxious. Alcohol pulled tightly-sealed lips apart, and Stephen heard more than his fair share of gossip. The sorcerer wasn’t altogether sure why he was there; sure, he had helped out in the few fights that had broken out over the course of the month, but most of them had been bar brawls and spats between lovers. Oh, and a couple of dimension-hopping jackal-women, but those lay in his line of work, without the help of any of the Avengers.

But how could he complain when he was sitting next to the brightest man in the room?

‘This might be a slightly personal question…’ Scott said, arm resting behind Stephen’s shoulders on the back of the sofa, ‘but, have ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few?’

The mage turned his universal gaze on the other superhero, brow crunched. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

‘I mean, like, uh… you know, you have a couple of drinks and… and you text people you wanna talk to… or call em,’ the other stuttered.

Stephen shook his head. ‘I don’t, I’m afraid,’ he mused, ‘I don’t drink… not after my accident.’

‘Oh… I’m so sorry, that was insensitive of me!’

‘Oh, don’t worry, you weren’t to know,’ the wizard said, waving a hand as if to brush the matter away.

Scott smiled and put his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. He was about to open his mouth and change the subject when the sorcerer’s name was called from across the room.

‘Strange! I need you to tell Steve why the Earth isn’t flat, come here!’ Tony Stark called.

The doctor rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll be back in a moment, this should be a rather easy argument if it’s Captain Brunch I’m arguing with,’ he chuckled, as he stood up.

Scott laughed and watched the jean-clad behind of Doctor Stephen Strange walk away. _God, he has a nice ass_ , the father of one found himself thinking. Then he mentally slapped himself for looking in the first place.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, smiled at the beaming picture of Cassie, then unlocked it and went to his messages.

_To Stephen: saw a  reel cuuuute dogg 2day. He ws fluff y and had thees reely biig eyes. He lookd sofft. I cryed abt him_

_To Stephen: ilyyyyyyyy <3 _

_To Stephen: my beds cold. I bet itd be muuuch warmer if sum1 ws heer to b in ib wit me_

_To Stephen: cassies on a sleepovr. Im druuuun k kknnk loll_

_To Stephen: miss u :((( wish u wer heer_

_To Stephen: Picture attached_ \- there were four pictures that Scott had sent to the wizard: two of Cassie; one of what looked like a drink but it was so blurry that it was indecipherable, and a blurry selfie.

_To Stephen: wannaaaa see a magic trik?? ;)_

_To Stephen:_ Here, Scott had tapped the kiss face emoji seven times, as well as a few hearts.

_To Stephen: ur eyes r so prettyyy. Like oceans. Or mabee the nite sky. Def sumthin like stars. Stars and planets. I cud get lost in ur eyes. I wanna. Wanna look into ur eyes while kissin u_

_To Stephen: I bet ur ass s wud look goooood with m y du ck ib itt_

It was here that Scott exited out of his messages and put his phone away. He had continued to send more texts to Stephen, each of them becoming more and more sexual and more and more incoherent. He had even taken a blurry picture of his erection hidden under bright pink boxers with flamingos on them. And he remembered that he had jacked off to the thought of Stephen, of those muscles under warm milky skin tensing under his hands, of the tight heat around his cock, of the sound of deep, chocolate moans that Scott would pull from his throat.

He was just thankful that his credit had run out, meaning that the messages weren’t able to send. He’d delete them later so that they didn’t go through at all.

Though... he couldn’t help but wonder what Stephen would have replied if they had gone through.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he had lost another chance.

**5.**

“So,” Scott watched Christine hurry back down the hospital hallway towards a medical cabinet, wiping her hands on her pale blue scrubs. “That’s your… ex?”

“Something like that,” Stephen mumbled, taking over Christine’s task of bandaging up the sorry-looking scrape on Scott’s forearm.

“Are you guys…?”

Stephen raised an eyebrow, not looking up from the gauze he was winding around the other hero.

“Like. A thing? Still? Are you, I dunno, like, cool with her? You seem like you’re--”

“--still friends,” the sorcerer interrupted curtly, giving the bandage an involuntarily sharp tug. Scott winced. “Ah-- sorry, sorry.”

“You guys have some… history?”

“Yep.”

“You wanna… talk about it?”

“Nope.”

Scott frowned lightly, watching the way Stephen’s shaking fingers tie the bandages into an expert knot at the base of his wrist. “If it’s any consolation, I have an ex too. I mean, I didn’t birth Cassie myself.”

Stephen’s mouth twitched up into a smile as forgiving as spring rain. “Mm. I didn’t think so. But I suppose everyone has an ex.”

‘I mean, not everyone’s so unlucky,’ the injured superhero chuckled, ‘I’m heard of some people staying together since high school.’

The wizard scoffed. ‘Sure, if they’re in a romance film.’

“Okay, okay, Mr. Pessimist,” Scott grumbled, pulling his arm away to cradle it in his other. “Well, you can always find someone else, even after a rough break-up, right?”

Stephen’s luminescent eyes settled on Scott, tracing him over like a searchlight. His heart pulled as he saw the pout on the shorter man’s face, and the clouded upset in the topaz eyes. _Good going, Stephen, you absolute disaster of a man_ , the doctor groused to himself.

“Of course you can,” he murmured, trying for a smile. “It’s just hard sometimes, y’know? Relationships can be…”

Scott reached forwards, settling his good hand on the mage’s forearm. “I know. It’s okay.”

Stephen’s smile faltered a little as he glanced down the hallway at Christine half buried in the medical closet, cursing softly as medical supplies spilled out over her short frame.

“Yeah. Hearts are difficult to keep open after… all that.”

Scott tilted his head to the side. “...is yours?”

“Huh?”

“Is your heart still open?” Scott swallowed. “...and if so, what time does it shut?”

“I--”

“There!” Christine’s voice floated back over them, accompanied by a hand waving a tube of salve. “Found it. All the way at the back of the closet too. You’re a lucky man, Scott.”

‘Oh… uh, thanks, Doc,’ he stuttered, taking the tube in his hand.

Christine left the room with a smile, and when Scott looked back up to Stephen, the taller man had gone. Somehow during the small interruption, the sorcerer had slipped out of the room, probably frightened off by Scott’s sorry attempt at flirting.

Yet another chance gone.

**+1**

There was more alcohol that evening, but this time it wasn’t under Tony Stark’s roof; this time it was under his own roof, on his own couch. The familiar weight of a sorcerer sitting next to him. And little to no self restraint this time.

“You know--” Scott said, alcohol loosening his lips. 'I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you, Stephen.”

The sorcerer choked on a sip of his drink.

Scott’s eyes widened as he realised what he’d just said out loud. 'Oh! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have said that, ignore me, I--' he babbled, hands covering his flushed cheeks.

Stephen chuckled-- a warm sound, like molten lava spreading down a mountain-- as he waved his hand to cut his companion off. 'Well… maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new,' he replied.

The other man blinked, once, twice, three times. His lips trembled as he tried to formulate a response. There was another chuckle made of molten stone and sultry heat, and suddenly warm lips covered his, a goatee scratching gently against his chin. Shaking hands contoured with rope-like scars threaded through hair like the fur of a Newfoundland dog, nails catching on soft skin.

This time, Scott didn’t lose his chance.


End file.
